Collide
by fortysix past
Summary: A collection of stories about Hermione and Ginny.  Mostly sappy, sappy, and more sappy junk.
1. Collide

**Collide**

A series of Hermione/Ginny songfics in no particular chronological order or relation, all written to the song:

_Pilot Speed (formerly Pilate) – Collide_

from their album _Caught By The Window_.

Enjoy.


	2. II ! Gates

**II**

The wind whipped at their weather-worn cloaks, the frayed ends lashing at their ankles and their rain-damp robes. They shivered; the rain pelted down and drenched their hair, trickling down their necks as their eyes searched the Forbidden Forest.

Cold fingers entwined with colder fingers. "I'm going with you."

Hazel-brown eyes sharply caught earnest bright brown and she shook her head. "Ginny, no." Her voice was faded and tired like an old oil painting left near the window for too long. "You can't," she pleaded.

"I want to go." Stubborn lips pressed together in the pretences of determination.

"No, Ginny, you can't." Her hands grasped the younger girl by the shoulders. "You have to stay here." She looked away briefly and then sought Ginny's warm eyes once more. "Promise me you'll stay here."

Ginny's gaze broke away and looked forlornly at the Forbidden Forest in indecision.

"Please." A damp finger nudged Ginny's chin as Hermione desperately fought to gain eye contact with the red-head. "Please, Ginny."

She nodded stiffly, looking back at the Forest, and then back at Hermione. "Alright, I promise," she whispered, trying to smile. "But promise me that you'll be alright out there."

_So keep your promise to me tonight_

Hermione returned the same nod. "I promise." She looked away just as she regretted the promise as soon as she made it.

_Or have your eyes betrayed you, oh tonight_

_You sell you secrets to me for a price_

A red flare shot into the sky. The signal.

Hermione straightened, her grip on Ginny's hand tightening just briefly before releasing it. She breathed deep and stepped forward, but the hand resting lightly on her shoulder stopped her. She turned, her eyes questioning.

A weak smile spread across Ginny's lips like a reluctant wildfire; Fiendfyre. The red smudge on her lips betrayed how hard she had bit in her anxiety. Ginny's tongue slipped out and tentatively licked the metallic tasting liquid.

_You run your blade right through me, my fears die, leaving yours alive_

Hermione impulsively stepped and leaned forward to close the distance between them. Ginny pulled away.

_And though your lips pursue me,_

"I'm bleeding."

Hermione smiled faintly. "I don't care."

She broke the kiss as she stepped away, spinning on her heel to avoid looking into Ginny's pleading eyes. Ginny stared at the ground.

_In the shadow of your eyes_

"Promise me that you'll be okay out there, Hermione."

She chanced a glance back just as lightning ignited the sky. "Promise me that you'll stay here."

A heartbeat too late, Ginny's gaze jerked upwards and she started after Hermione, only to stop after a step as she watched the Forbidden Forest engulf the lone figure.

"I love you," she whispered, hoping and dreading the wind would carry her words to her lover.

_Love and fear collide_

_--- _

Ghostly shapes parted from the Forest like birds from trees but not even the birds sung as cloaked figures fled the dark shadows of uncountable mysteries. Bright brown eyes counted the figures, their pale faces flushing with exertion as she scanned their hooded and haunted expressions.

Her lip trembled as she counted four and waited for the fifth. Her pleading gaze lifted to Harry's grim shake of his head and she ran.

"Hermione! _HERMIONE!_"

_Not you_

"No, Ginny! It's no use!" Harry roared in her deaf ears. His arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her back from the Forest.

"Get back! We have to get back! Close the gate!"

She sobbed and struggled free, elbowing Harry in the nose as she broke away and bolted into the black evergreen depths, her brother calling her in a distant echo as she ran headlong into the very danger Hermione was trying to protect her from.

Tears blinded her vision as she stumbled and fought with the opposing nature, hacking through branches and brambles and ferns as her shoes pounded against the hard-packed earth in synchronised syncopated heartbeat. She slid down moss-covered rock, leapt from a ridge to a clearing and pushed back the curtains of prickling green that cut at her face and fingers.

She didn't stop to look or to notice her surroundings as she threw herself onto the limp body. She shook it desperately by the shoulders, incoherent rapid whispers escaping trembling lips as she wept shamelessly.

"You have to wake up, Hermione. Please, Hermione..._ Please..."_

Her damp face buried into the cloak, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and lilac, the faint smell of ink and quills and parchment clouding her senses as she cradled her beloved in her arms.

---

She staggered through the thinning trees and emerged from the darkness, the dark clouds pouring rain from above. Rainwater trickled down her face, mingled with tears as she adjusted the burden on her back.

"We're almost there, Hermione."

_It's not too late, can we open the gate?  
Girl, I've been here before, I've walked 'cross these floors._

She stepped up to the entrance, spent as she sunk to her knees and pounded against the gate, the twin boars on either side stone silent and impassive as they stare down at her.

"Open the gate!" she yelled, her voice hoarse with tears.

_It's not too late, can we open the gate?  
Girl, I've been here before, I've walked 'cross these floors._

Her fists pounded against hard iron relentlessly as mud squelched beneath her. _Open the gate, open the gate..._

She slumped against the cold metal, her arms growing weaker with every stroke, with every hammering that shuddered through the gates like the sobs through her body.

"Open up!"

_It's not too late, can we open the gate?  
Girl, I've been here before, I've walked 'cross these floors._

Metal against metal screeched as the last stroke of her bruised fists fell and she fell into the courtyard. Hands lifted her by her weary arms but she fought them off and took up her burden.

"Hermione, Hermione... Just wake up, wake up, please. We're home, we're at Hogwarts, we'll go to the library, I promise. We can read all your favourite books and talk about them and fall asleep just talking..."

---

Ginny jerked awake from her fevered dreams, the rain still pelting down on her at the gates of Hogwarts. She pounded iron with flesh, with bone, with heart.

"_OPEN_!"

She didn't dare look back at her. The clouds were rolling in, the Dementors were on their way, the Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort.

"Open!" she screamed, desperation ringing the air.

"Remember," she whispered, her faded smile glimmering, "the time you chased me all the way to the Quidditch pitch? Hermione, we're home, we're at Hogwarts, all you have to do is wake up."

Her breath hitched in fear as she caught movement from the Forest in her peripheral vision.

_My fears have won,_

"Someone, please, open these bleeding gates!" she pleaded, no more than a strangled gasp as her voice failed her.

_What are you running from?_

Her head slammed against the bars in frustration, waves of dizziness washing over her and she looked down at Hermione's serene sleeping face.

_What are you running from?_

Those soft eyelashes flickered just slightly and hazel-brown eyes slowly focussed on her between them. "Ginny..." she breathed.

_What are you running from?_

Ginny choked back a sob as her bloodied fingers trembled against Hermione's soft face. "You broke your promise." It was absurd, but it was the first thing that left her lips.

_My tears run,_

It was one of those vague, ironic smiles that twitched at a corner of Hermione's lips that Ginny returned as she shook her head imperceptibly. "You broke yours."

_What are you running from?_

_What are you running from?_

_What are you running from?_


	3. I ! Too Late

**I**

The London rain poured down from the night heavens, the soft _pitter-patter, pitter-patter_ echoing in the silence of the flat where the figure of a young woman stood in stony contemplation, waiting as she stared outside through the rain-spotted ceiling-high windows with empty eyes. She pulled the trench coat tighter around her slim frame; her lips exhaled a puffy white cloud.

_So keep your promise to me tonight_

She barely turned, barely flinched when she heard the door creak open. The door closed quietly after the soft shuffle of feet and the bolt slid into place. Wordlessly, the stranger crossed the living room to her side. The floorboards creaked beneath the weight of the black leather shoes, fashionable, yet practical. She turned, her bright brown eyes meeting the stranger's tearful hazel-brown, a glimmer of a smile touching both their lips as an ink-stained hand tremulously reached forward and cupped her chin.

_Or have your eyes betrayed you, oh tonight  
_

They recited the usual three words in silent whispers like a play written in their heads, the white breath they shared was the curtain as their chests heaved into each other. Their fingers roamed and pinched and teased while their tongues lashed in a never-ending unrequited war of wit.

_You sell you secrets to me for a price_

Their clothes covered their tracks, the invisible footprints that crossed the living room to the couch, then to the coffee table where they drank and drowned to their ecstasy in turn.

_You run your blade right through me, my fears die, leaving yours alive  
_

The glass panel beneath her fogged in the heat of her nakedness as the stranger breathed soft butterfly kisses with trembling moist lips, her assured whispers of undying passion marking burning freckled skin.

_And though your lips pursue me, in the shadow of your eyes  
_

But she knows. She knows. Love like this only comes once a year. Unrequited love like this only comes once a lifetime.

_Love and fear collide  
_

She can't decide which is worse; waking up without the familiar scent of lilac and lavender beside her or the slow and haunting dream-memory that lingers and tortures her when she returns to reality. The soft whispers of her green-eyed husband-to-be holding her gently as she weeps repeats like a mantra from his lips: _She's dead, she's dead…_

_Not you_

Every Friday, they follow the cold stone path to the private cemetery, bearing a bouquet or a rose. Every time, they pause at the gate, reading the plaque with blank stares and empty hearts.

_It's not too late, can we open the gate?_

But this time she comes alone on a Wednesday, following the cold stone path to the private cemetery, bearing nothing. She stops at the gate, pushing it open. It swings; its springs groan like a familiar lover's touch as she passes through the threshold and crosses the earth-packed floor to the granite marker's side.

_Girl, I've been here before, I've walked 'cross these floors.  
_

This time she comes alone on a Thursday, following the stone path to the private cemetery. She passes through the threshold and crosses the floor to the granite marker's side. The dead leaves crackle beneath her feet.

This time she comes brandishing a knife.

_My fears have won,  
_

She comes brandishing a knife to her wrist, bearing tears of love as she kneels before the headstone and weeps her fear.

_My tears run,_

This time they come alone on a Friday, following the cold stone path to the private cemetery. The gate swings but neither of them enters. Not yet. They breathe white puffy clouds and wear rings like shame on their fingers. He looks to the green trees; she stares at the brown ground.

_What are you running from?_


End file.
